


Normal Again (or Getting There)

by BabylonsFall



Series: Prompts [13]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Post-Episode: s03e08 And the Eternal Question
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/pseuds/BabylonsFall
Summary: When Cassandra got out of the hospital, everything more or less went back to normal (or got on the track to get there).Now if Jacob could get the memo, that'd be great.





	Normal Again (or Getting There)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So I was given the prompt _Cassandra and Jake and # 14 (a sad kiss)_ off a prompt list awhile back, and this is the result! I don't know how much it actually fills the prompt, but I like how it ended up. Hope you enjoy!

If asked about it later, Jacob...well, technically, Jacob doesn’t say anything. Nothing happened. So, therefore, there’s nothing to say. And Cassandra backs him up, smiling and drawing the conversation away easily. Because nothing did happen—nothing earth-shattering anyway.

No one expected everything to just go right back to normal when Cassandra got back to the Library, after the hospital. Not  _ really _ . Which is why almost everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief when it basically  _ did  _ snap back to normal. Sure, Cassandra was fidgety for a little while there, what with her mind spinning, creating, exploring, mapping out what she could and couldn’t do anymore and getting massive headaches for her troubles. And maybe she tired out a little easier, for awhile, while she healed, while she learned. Spent more evenings with her hands wrapped around a cup of warm tea, helping Jenkins with his experiments, than running after the boys while they bickered.

After Apep, she had awhile to  _ breathe _ and no one seemed to begrudge her that. No one ever tipped over the fine edge of overbearing, thankfully. Jenkins got close, of course, in his usual gruff way that he seemed to think still fooled any of them. Oddly enough, so did Jacob.

Where Jenkins made sure she always had tea and whatever herbal remedies he assured her today would help with the headaches and the spinning, Jacob…Jacob, if he wasn’t chasing after Ezekiel, following after Baird, or harping on Flynn, like normal, all normal, was hanging around the edges—making sure she remembered her sunglasses on bad days, driving her to and from work at the first sign she might need it (or one text in the morning). Hell, she’s pretty sure if she wasn’t on top of her meds from a lifetime of practice, he’d probably be right there to remind her (but she was, so, thankfully, he let her be. She was an adult and he, they all, treated her like it).

Point was. He wasn’t overbearing. But he was obvious. Even when Jenkins started laying off a little—again, in his own way—and she could be found just as often in his lab, her own work space, or once again chasing after the boys while they sniped and bickered (she was pretty sure it was their form of bonding at this point), Jacob still just. Hung around. Closer than he used to.

If he could stop looking pinched around the eyes everytime, she might not have minded.

And it was obvious he was  _ trying  _ to lay off, catching himself here and there, when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Overall. Overall it was reaching the point where she  _ wanted  _ to say something—to take that last step in making everything go back to normal—but she really didn’t know  _ what  _ to say.

Turns out, what she needed to ask, when the time came, she didn’t really need to think about all that much.

It was a soft morning—the kind Cassandra liked best. Cool, grey light stretching out on the road, damp enough to carry a chill but the wind still enough to keep the bite away. The day promised an autumn crispness that she could either enjoy as it was or chase away with a mug of something warm. It was nice, having that choice.

She’d texted Jacob, asking for a ride again that morning, despite it being one of her better days (so many were stringing together, she was getting hopeful that they’d start just being  _ normal _ days again). He hadn’t called her on it though. Just pulled up, gave her a smile, and off they went.

Mornings like this were typically quiet—someone crooning on the radio, too low to pick out actual words, but neither of them racing to fill the empty space left behind. Looking at him out of the corner of her eyes…he looked relaxed. Easy. She wanted that to stay.

“...Are we okay?” It's not loud, not by a long shot. She’s pretty sure, for a moment, he didn’t actually hear her even. Until she looks closer. Sees that pinch to his eyes, his hands tightening on the wheel, a nervous flick of a look out the window.

He heard her just fine. He just didn’t seem in a rush to answer. (Not that she could blame him. For all that he was good at improvising like the rest of them, trip him up enough, he tended to fall the hardest). So, rather than push, she gave him the moment.

She didn’t expect him to pull the car off to the side. They could see the Annex, just down the road. He kept the car on, hands still on the wheel—doing a nervous little tap now as he worked through what to say.

“...I’m sorry.” Its low, heavy, just barely loud enough over the radio. “Didn’t mean to get weird about it.” Is the follow up, rushed, with a thin smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes when he turns to look at her, like he’s trying to...to play it off. To shove it under the rug, move past it.

She shakes her head quickly, “I just. What can I do?” She doesn’t expect an answer, not really, and from the look Jacob throws her immediately, she knows he’s not going to give one. This isn’t something she did in the first place—this is all on him, and they both know it.

But dammit, she wants her friend back.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m just…” He pauses, eyes trained forward for a moment before he glances back at her, lips quirking up in a smile a lot more real this time even as his eyes get suspiciously bright. “I like ya, Cassie. Don’t think I could...watching you go through those doors? Helluva lot different than anytime we ended up on cots in the Annex.” He breathes, scrubs a hand over his eyes with a self-deprecating laugh, “I’ll work on it, promise. Didn’t mean to make it weird,” he repeats, like he’s trying to convince himself and her both.

And maybe the hug she drags him into is awkward—given his squawk he definitely wasn’t expecting it, but his flail doesn’t catch anything, so it works—and it takes them a moment to figure out how to press together in a way that’s more comforting and less clinging, but they manage, his arms wrapping tight around her shoulders while hers wrap around his middle.

Its long overdue, is what it is, Cassandra knows. Everything had gone back to normal, and yet, in truth...nothing had. That everyone had been willing to pretend though, to work through it until it  _ was  _ normal, was amazing. And Jacob had been trying, she knew—she knew the last thing he wanted was to put more stress on her.

She doesn’t say anything about the tears she feels against her skin when he shifts enough to press a kiss to her temple, firm and warm—pulling her close and holding her there for a moment, like its something he needs to do, to keep her close, before he goes to pull away, rubbing hard at his eyes again.

She also doesn’t say anything as a warning when she leans over to press a lightning quick kiss to his cheek and the tear tracts he hasn’t quite wiped away yet. “Are we okay?” She asks again, softly, still in his space. And the smile he gives her is bright and fragile, but there’s no pinch to his eyes, and he meets her look dead on.

“We’re okay.” And she knows he wouldn’t lie to her, not about that.

So, she grins, “Baird’s gonna yell at us if we make it in after Ezekiel.” And he curses, loud and long, and ridiculous enough that she knows he’s trying to make her laugh and ignore his still red eyes. And, well, it  _ is  _ ridiculous, so it’s no burden.

They make it in two minutes before Ezekiel does.

And of course Ezekiel notices Jacob’s red eyes, notices the way him and Cassandra move around each other—easier, more normal than they’ve been in weeks—but Jacob says nothing happened, when he says anything at all. And Cassandra backs him up.

Because nothing did happen. Everything was exactly as it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always loved and appreciated!
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://distinctivelibrarians.tumblr.com) if you like!


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